


wanna be myself (or nothing at all)

by paradune



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, I'm embarrassed, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, if you realize this is me projecting no you don't, so..much fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:09:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27925051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradune/pseuds/paradune
Summary: "I don't deserve you," Sakusa says, a little breathless.Atsumu splutters, surprise evident on his face, before he sniggers, "I should make ya cry more often if it means you’re gonna be this sappy,” and he’s grinning when he says, “Of course ya don't deserve me, Omi. Aren't I so nice for stayin' anyway?"And Sakusa knows Atsumu is fucking around, but he's tempted to answer in the affirmative anyway.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 33
Kudos: 379





	wanna be myself (or nothing at all)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic includes talk about homophobia and unsupportive families so beware if that's something you typically stay away from. 
> 
> But, also don't let that scare you away. This is... just a lot of fluff because they are so so in love with each other, okay? 
> 
> Sakusa is especially whipped, thank you very much.

It’s a Friday night, and Sakusa is sitting at his uncle’s dinner table for one of his family's semi-regular monthly dinners. He's been here for nearly an hour, and currently is trying to look very occupied with the (admittedly good) mashed potatoes on his plate. He’s hoping it’ll discourage any attempts of conversation with him. 

Sakusa resists the urge to let out a very dramatic sigh.

When his mother had insisted he come, he hadn't bothered arguing. Having skipped the last two, he knew one more would be pushing his already very spent luck a little too far.

Just 30 more minutes, he thinks, looking at the gaudy and probably expensive watch his father had gifted him last year. 

Sakusa discerned early on in his adult life that an hour and a half was the perfect amount of time to spend at get-togethers like these. It was long enough to temporarily please his mother, who’d have to deal with snide remarks from the rest of his family if he did happen to leave too early, but was still short enough that Sakusa left mostly unscathed.

At least, it usually was.

His nephew, Izumi, sits directly across him at the table. He's been staring at Sakusa for the past few minutes with eyes that seem far too intelligent for a six-year-old.

Almost like Sakusa is one of those particularly difficult 1000-piece puzzles he likes figuring out.

Or Izumi just thinks his face looks funny.

Sakusa can't decide which one he thinks is more likely. So, he continues toying with his food.

In one moment, he's looking down at his plate, and in the next, he's whipping his head up to meet Izumi’s gaze head-on.

To the kid’s credit, he only looks slightly startled but refuses to look away.

He looks so much like Sakusa’s own sister, he notes. It almost makes him smile.

Almost.

Instead, he leaves his face carefully blank.

Then after a few more moments of uninterrupted eye contact, he crosses his eyes and sticks his tongue out at Izumi.

Izumi's face lights up immediately, a few giggles spilling out of his mouth before he's laughing a little harder. Sakusa lets himself smile a little at the sight. 

“So Sakusa, when are you finally going to find a nice girl to settle down with?” 

Sakusa reluctantly moves his gaze away from his little nephew to his sister's husband, Ren, who seems to have been watching the entire exchange with a slight interest. 

He barely has to think before he says in an even, almost bored tone,  
“I’m really just trying to focus on school right now. Maybe later.”

“Yes, of course, of course. You've always been so focused, Sakusa. But there are things more important than money and school. Wouldn’t you like to have mini Sakusas running around you someday?” Ren says, looking a little pointedly at his own son, Izumi. 

"Or are you just hiding her from all of us? Worried we're going to scare her off?" he adds on a little cheekily.

A few alarms blare off in Sakusa’s mind. On the outside, however, he assures Ren that isn't the case and laughs the comment off. He hopes it doesn't sound as strained as it does in his own head. Ren looks like he'd like to pry further, and is about to open his mouth to do just that, when he’s interrupted by Sakusa’s sister yelling for him, no doubt to help her with their one-year-old daughter, Asami, who seems to be currently screeching the loudest her tiny vocal cords will allow her.

Ren smiles wryly at Sakusa, "Duty calls." Then, he's leaving to follow the sound of his wife’s voice.

Sakusa lets out a little sigh before he turns back to his food. His head is beginning to throb, potentially the forewarning for a bigger, uglier migraine.

Perhaps a few years ago, Sakusa would feel indignation at this particular line of questioning. Now, he just feels a familiar sadness bubble in his chest. After all, the conversation was really just Ren’s attempt to bond with his ever esoteric brother-in-law. The tone of his words was meant to be pleasant and not nearly as unprovocative as Sakusa felt it was. Because, surely, this was simply the only possible trajectory for Sakusa’s life. 

Feeling a little bitter, Sakusa thinks about how far the world is from being free of assumptions like these.

Suddenly, he feels unbearably tired. 

He peeks at his watch. Only ten minutes have passed since he last checked. He really should stay longer, if only to lessen the number of passive aggressive comments he’s bound to get as he fights his way to the door. But he decides that he truly can’t be bothered anymore. 

He sends out a quick text before setting his phone face down on the table. Only a few moments later, it begins to buzz. He picks it up,

“Hello. Sakusa speaking.”

He hears a chuckle from the other line, “Well, this is yer monthly get out of shit ya don’t wanna do call.”

“I see. Did something go wrong during the training phase?”

“Wow, Omi, you sound so _boring_ when yer usin’ yer work voice,” the voice laments. 

“That’s unfortunate,” he retorts dryly. 

Down the table, his parents look at him inquisitively. 

_Work_ , he mouths to them, and watches as understanding flits through their expressions.

“It really is,” the voice continues, “Might hafta hang up real soon cause listenin’ to ya is torture.”

Sakusa’s face twitches, ”I’ll be at the lab in about 15 minutes. We can try fixing it then.”

He ends the call, but not before he hears an exaggerated yawn from the other line.

When he gets up to leave, his mother follows. She fawns over him, asks him not to work too hard. Sakusa feels a little guilty for lying to her. But five minutes later, when he’s out the front door, relief immediately overshadows any feelings of guilt that linger.

When he finally gets into his car, he settles against his seat with a big sigh. He seems to be doing a lot of those lately. He raises his hand to fiddle with the knob of his car radio, contemplates switching it on. 

Maybe some music would be nice. 

He winces as the pain in his head sharpens, like a knife twisting deeper into his temples.

Perhaps not. 

He turns the key in the ignition and begins the fifteen minute drive home. Sakusa spends this time thinking about everything that had happened today at his uncle’s place. 

Well, he mostly thinks about his conversation with his sister’s husband. 

Sakusa wonders if Ren could tell that he was lying through his teeth. Could he tell that Sakusa was indeed currently seeing someone? 

Because surely, Sakusa thinks, surely, it must be so painfully obvious that he’s spent the better part of the last two years hopelessly in love with one Miya Atsumu. 

He recalls his brother in law’s expression. Nothing too alarming pops up. 

Or maybe it isn’t.

Something in his head switches out the number of the “Days Without an Accident” sign that Sakusa keeps handy in there.

_One more day._

* * *

Family dinners are a difficult affair for Sakusa. They are jarring reminders of reality, one which he had spent years trying to understand when he was younger.  
Now, he directs a considerable amount of effort trying to erase this comprehension. 

His numerous efforts to forget have led to this process: 

1\. Sakusa uses a hammer to break down the monstrous form this understanding creates in the center of his head.  
2\. He collects the broken pieces and melts them down into a clay-like substance.  
3\. Then, he spreads this clay over the back of his skull in a thin layer.  
4\. After some time, the layer begins to chip, before it breaks down completely. The pieces combine once again to form the original mass it was. Sakusa must then repeat this process. 

The layer he spreads is always uneven and bumpy, despite all his attempts to flatten it out. It refracts all of his thoughts as they bounce erratically in his head, adjusting them ever so slightly from their usual trajectory. They end up heavier with the added weight of the always sticky clay. 

Still, it is easier to function this way, without this understanding occupying the center of his mind. After all, Sakusa’s comfort is the accumulation of these little ways in which he learns to adjust. 

This is Sakusa Kiyoomi’s reality; he must hide fragments of himself from the people who say they will love him unconditionally when he knows that one day they will not. Before, Sakusa might have called these people liars. But now, he is aware of greater forces that have been working in the background for longer than he can imagine. These forces have put limits to his family’s love that he cannot blame them for. Sakusa can, and does, feel endless hate for these forces but he cannot find it in himself to feel the same for his family. 

* * *

When Sakusa unlocks the door to his— _their_ —apartment, he finds Atsumu sitting on the couch, half paying attention to whatever’s playing on their television.

Atsumu doesn’t usually watch television alone, thinks it’s a waste of his time. That is unless he’s waiting for Sakusa to come home. The thought of Atsumu waiting up for him still makes his stupid little heart twist, makes him want to say something _unbearably_ soft, just to see Atsumu’s reaction as he does.

Instead, Sakusa groans very loudly for a concerning number of seconds. 

Atsumu turns his head, meeting Sakusa’s eyes with a raised eyebrow.  
“Hello to ya too, Omi,” he says, slightly amused. 

Sakusa makes a beeline for the sofa, and plants his face into Atsumu’s lap. He burrows his head deep until the thighs underneath him don’t give anymore and breathing becomes just a little difficult. Then, he inhales deeply. It smells so distinctly like Atsumu, so distinctly like home, it grounds him. A second later, there are hands in his hair, scratching his scalp gently. 

Sakusa has never felt more at peace.

Atsumu is looking down at him, his smile a tiny, nearly nonexistent thing. Yet, it looks so heavy with all the emotion it holds. 

“That bad, huh?”

Sakuatsu only grunts in response. Atsumu realizes he isn’t going to get anything of substance out of him while he’s like this. So he just continues running his fingers through Sakusa’s hair and lets him recuperate. It still surprises him how intimately Atsumu understands him. Especially when it comes to his feelings about his family. 

He thinks about a time before Atsumu knew. 

* * *

Atsumu finds out about Sakusa’s family six months into their relationship, the summer before their senior year. The heat outside is made bearable inside Atsumu’s apartment by the overhead fan. He’s sat on his sofa, his arm resting along the back of it, with his legs slightly spread open.

 _Just_ enough so Sakusa can make a home for himself in between them. 

Sakusa is tonguing the head of Atsumu’s dick, his hand stroking the rest of the length. Then, he slips the tip past his lips and slowly starts to take more and more of Atsumu into his mouth.

Atsumu groans, " _God_ , darlin’, you’re so fuckin’ good at this," he sighs, "it’s like yer mouth was made for suckin' my cock."

Sakusa keens a little at the praise and starts bobbing his head.

"Should just tie ya to my bed,” Atsumu continues, "baby, I’d _never_ let ya leave. Would just fuck yer mouth every day,” He fucks up into Sakusa’s mouth, “Bet ya would love that, hm?”

Sakusa feels like he’s burning, like he’s losing his mind. 

"Can’t believe no one— _fuck_ —else knows how much of a slut ya can be. What do ya think yer parents would say, hm? If they knew their precious baby was on his knees, crying 'cause of my cock?"

Sakusa pauses, can't stop himself from tensing. It only takes Atsumu a few seconds to sense the change. He pulls out of Sakusa’s mouth and tips his chin up with a single finger.

“What’s wrong? Too much?” He asks, his eyes tinged with a touch of insecurity. It snaps Sakusa out of his daze.

Uncertainty looks _wrong_ on Atsumu’s face. Sakusa hates himself a little for putting it there. Atsumu is the most beautiful when he’s acting like the cocky, overconfident brat he truly is. Sakusa thinks he would do a lot of questionable things to keep him looking the way he did before he fucked up—his eyes filled brazen confidence, his mouth twisted in a smirk, and his tongue _dripping_ with filth. 

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” he quickly tries to recover.

Just as Sakusa’s about to put his mouth back on Atsumu’s cock, a hand in his hair pulls him back, his mouth less than an inch away from the pink, swollen head. 

He groans in frustration.

“What is it, Atsumu?”

Atsumu looks at him in a calculated manner. He’s far too coherent for Sakusa’s taste, something he _needs_ to correct immediately. Or whenever Atsumu decides to let him.

He narrows his eyes, “You’re not tellin’ me something.”

Sakusa glares at him. 

Not right now, he tries to say with his eyes. But beautiful, stupid, _stubborn_ Atsumu won’t take the fucking clue. So, Sakusa does the only thing he can. 

He scrapes his teeth over the head of his dick, admittedly a little harder than he should have. 

The hand in his hair pulls sharply, and Atsumu yelps and moves his dick out of the danger zone that is Sakusa’s mouth.

“ _What the fuck is wrong with ya?_ I’m tryna be a nice fuckin’ boyfriend,” he hisses, “And this is the thanks I get?” 

He scowls at Atsumu like he's said the dumbest thing in the world, his scalp throbbing from the burn. “I didn’t ask you to be _nice_ ,” he grits out. He rolls his eyes for good measure. 

They continue glaring at each other. This is going nowhere, Sakusa realizes. He's going to have to switch tactics if he ever wants to get his mouth back on Atsumu.

Sakusa sighs like life just dealt him a particularly terrible hand. “ _Baby_ , Atsumu, we can talk about this later.”

He makes sure Atsumu is looking deep into his eyes when he says, “Right now, I just want to suck my boyfriend off and watch his face as he comes. Then, I’d like to come on his fingers. So I’d really appreciate it if he would get with the program.” 

Atsumu’s eyes widen a touch. His cock twitches. Dirty talk is more his thing—Sakusa can't imagine saying some of the things he says with a straight face. (Still, Atsumu somehow makes it work.) It’s probably why it affects him so much when Sakusa is desperate enough to partake. 

“ _Jesus fuck_. Fine. But ya bet yer ass we’re talkin’ about this later.” 

Then his grip on Sakusa’s hair relaxes. 

It’s a little embarrassing, but Sakusa practically pounces on Atsumu. He pushes his thighs apart, holds them down, and wraps his lips around Atsumu. 

Sakusa sucks fervently at the head, partly in revenge for ever making him stop, before taking as much of him as he can into his mouth. Atsumu groans, his head tipping backwards with his eyes screwed shut. Still a little hot from before, it isn't long before he's all worked up again. 

When Sakusa’s nose is brushing the hair at the base of his cock, Atsumu looks like he's about to combust. He's too out of it to speak now, only letting out groans and yelps and whimpers. Sakusa doesn't dare take his eyes off of him—doesn't think he could even if he tried. Instead, he burns the image of Atsumu writhing and trembling because of him to his brain. He continues working him, uncaring of the tinge of pain in his jaw. 

Then, he’s finally coming in Sakusa’s mouth, the sight still so sweet despite the wait. Sakusa grimaces at the bitter taste when he swallows what he can, and slowly pulls his mouth off of Atsumu. A few drops spill from his lips and threaten to drip onto his clothes. Atsumu is quick to drag a finger through the mess.

And then he’s pressing it to Sakusa’s slightly swollen lips. 

Sakusa, too far gone to refuse, obediently parts his lips. He’s always a bit too pliable after sucking Atsumu off, something the latter is intimately aware of. 

And Atsumu isn’t _nice_ enough to not take advantage of the fact.

So, he runs his finger over Sakusa’s pink tongue, nearly petting it. He completely releases his grip on his hair and instead moves his hand to Sakusa’s shoulder. The hand moves up, over the length of his broad shoulders, his collarbones, his neck. It pauses for a second over his throat, just long enough to feel Sakusa’s breath quicken. 

Atsumu’s smile becomes just a touch crueler. Then, he's grabbing Sakusa’s jaw a little meanly, in the way Atsumu _knows_ fucks him up. He removes his finger from his mouth, only to push two more back in. In a split second, he’s fucking Sakusa’s mouth with his fingers. 

For some reason, this feels a lot _dirtier_ than when he was sucking Atsumu’s cock. Sakusa feels his face burn with embarrassment and arousal, each emotion fueling the other. 

He whimpers when Atsumu grips his jaw even harder.

"God, you're so fuckin' _pretty_. And so, so good. Made me come so hard. And then ya swallowed every drop," Atsumu says, looking a little rattled.

“So," He pulls his fingers out.

“Fuckin’," He pushes three back in.

"Good for me, hm?" He pulls them back out.

"Atsumu. Please. I need, I need to,” Sakusa begs, uncaring of how desperate he sounds, “ _Please._ ”

Atsumu shushes him, traces Sakusa’s lips with his spit slick fingers, and says, "I got ya darlin'. How about ya tell me again how ya wanna come, hm?"

At the back of his mind, Sakusa makes a note to punch him in the stomach later for all the _humiliating_ things he's making him say. For now, he simply says, "On your fingers, please."

Atsumu’s grin stretches until it looks like it hurts, his eyes filled with glee.

"Sure, baby. I can do that for ya," he says, smug enough that it makes Sakusa want to both throttle him and kiss him until he's breathless.

Next thing Sakusa knows, he’s lying down on the sofa with his lower body practically in Atsumu’s lap, and three of his fingers up his ass.

His own hands are in his hair, pulling the strands in a poor attempt to ground himself. Atsumu gazes reverently at the scene, almost like he can hardly believe his eyes. It only drives Sakusa further up the wall. 

Sakusa has big, fat tears rolling down his face but he can’t find it in himself to feel embarrassed about it. He's just so, so _close_ to falling off the edge, just needs one last push. 

"C'mon, doll. Let me see yer pretty face when ya come," Atsumu says, driving his fingers in a little more forcefully.

And it’s enough. 

With a broken cry, Sakusa falls.

Atsumu continues to fuck him through his orgasm, only slowing down when Sakusa starts to squirm. Even then, he fucks into him a few more times for good measure, until Sakusa is pushing his hand away, whimpering from the overstimulation.

He pulls his fingers out and cleans it with one of the towels they had the foresight to keep on their coffee table. He uses another one to wipe the cum off of Sakusa’s stomach. 

Atsumu pushes him off of his lap and lies down on top of him, resting his head on Sakusa’s stomach with his face turned towards him.

Then, he _stares_. 

Sakusa groans with feeling, hoping it'll discourage Atsumu. Unsurprisingly, Atsumu doesn't feel the need to be cooperative. 

"So?," Atsumu says.

"What."

“Are ya gonna tell me why ya looked like I set fire to every one of yer ugly jackets when I brought up yer family?"

Sakusa knew this was coming. Atsumu isn't an idiot, Sakusa knows he’s noticed the way he clams up any time at the slightest mention of his family. He simply hasn't found the right time to mention it. 

Until right now, it seems. 

When Sakusa is boneless from an earth-shattering orgasm.

When he’s less capable of holding back his thoughts.

Still, he tries.

"What kind of afterglow is this? Can't it wait?"

Atsumu pretends to think about it.

"Nah," he says, "don't think it can."

Sakusa groans again, louder and more pained.

"Fine."

So he tells Atsumu. And then he waits, with his arm over his eyes and his stomach contorting with anxiety. He's been putting this off for a reason. Something ugly curls in his heart when he thinks that Atsumu might think Sakusa is _ashamed_ of him. 

But more selfishly, he’s worried Atsumu will realize he deserves better. Better than someone who can't show him off to his _own family_ , let alone the entire world. 

That he owes it to himself to be with someone who's learned to be honest about themselves, surely at least with everyone dear to them. 

But Sakusa is not that person.

He doesn't know when— _if_ —he can ever be that person. 

He thinks he should've told Atsumu earlier. A better person probably would have. But Sakusa doesn't think he is a very good person. And so he waited, in hopes Atsumu would find reasons to stay anyway.

"Hey, Omi."

His eyes burn. 

" _Hey!_ "

He's fucked up.

Suddenly, Atsumu is sitting on his torso, pushing his arms away.

"Stop drowning in self-pity, ya idiot," he snarls. His face softens a little as he takes in his expression. "It's okay. I'm a little pissed ya didn't tell me earlier. It's been six fuckin' months."

Sakusa exhales wetly. 

"I said it was okay, ya dweeb. So stop actin’ like I'm breakin' up with ya," Atsumu says, not even trying to hide the judgment in his voice.

" _Fuck off_ ," Sakusa says back, moving to cover his face from scrutiny. 

"Uh uh. Nope. Get up. We're takin' a shower and then we're gonna sleep. I'm fuckin' tired," Atsumu goes to pull him off of the sofa.

"God, I fucking _hate_ you."

"Yeah, yeah, sure ya do."

Both of them ignore the way Sakusa’s voice shakes. 

* * *

 _It’s okay_ , Atsumu says. 

Nearly a month after the words leave his mouth, Atsumu realizes that might not be as true as he thought it was.

He brings it up one day when they’re at his apartment. They’ve just come back from spending the day at Atsumu's parent’s house. Now, Sakusa is contemplating their choices for dinner.

Maybe he'd be able to whip up something quick from what's in the fridge.

Takeout is an option too. Atsumu’s favorite Thai place should still be open for another hour.

But then Atsumu is calling his name, and when he meets his gaze, Sakusa notices how cautious he looks. He completely forgets about dinner. Hesitating only a little, he nods at Atsumu to continue.

Atsumu takes a deep breath before he says, "Ya know I love how well ya get along with my mum and my dad. Osamu too. And it made me think," his fingers clench, "It made me think about yer family. About how they don't know that I exist. About how ya don't have what I do." He pauses, takes another deep breath, "And I don't think it's healthy. I talked to Osamu about it, and he doesn't think it is either. Hiding such an important part of ya," Another pause, "it just isn't healthy." He opens his mouth as if to speak again, before closing it like he doesn’t know what else to say.

By the time Atsumu is done speaking, Sakusa feels numb. He's sitting slouched on the sofa, looking straight at Atsumu, but somehow through him.

"Can ya' say _somethin’_? You're making me feel all jittery."

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"Well, whatever you're thinking right now is a good place to start."

"I can't," Sakusa closes his eyes, " _I can't tell them_. It won't end well."

Atsumu stands his ground, "You don't know that yet, Omi."

He can't help the anger he feels at that. His eyes snap open, "Yes, _I fucking do_ , Atsumu. Do you think I haven't thought about this?"

And then he can’t stop the words coming out of his mouth.

"I've been thinking about this for over _a fucking decade_ , since the day I realized I might not be so straight. I thought about it the day I met you. I thought about it the day I asked you out." he feels like screaming, "I've thought about it _every fucking day_ since I realized I _loved_ you." He hears a tiny gasp. This probably wasn’t the greatest time to drop the L-bomb, but Sakusa continues anyway, "I've played it out in my head so many fucking times but the end never changes, and it _never_ will."

"The day I'm honest with them, is the day I lose nearly all of my family, Atsumu," he says, and he hates the way his voice trembles as he does.

"Fuck, it isn't even about that. Atsumu, the day I come out to them is the day I cause them so much pain," his voice cracks, "and I don't know if I'm worth all that hurt. God, can you imagine _my mother_? It'd fucking _kill_ her. She wouldn't know how to let go of me, wouldn't know how to stop loving me. She'd be forever stuck thinking that her son is going to _burn_ in hell for eternity for being so hopelessly in love with another man. And I don't know if I can do that to her."

Sakusa doesn't realize his chest is heaving, doesn't realize he's letting out small broken noises with every exhale, doesn't realize how his hands are shaking until Atsumu is kneeling between his knees, shushing him and holding both of his hands in his own to still them.

"Shh Omi, it's alright, I'm—"

"Don't say you’re sorry," he pleads, "I know that it isn't. It isn't _alright_. I just don't know how I can—" he gasps, a little out of breath, but he pushes through because he _needs_ Atsumu to know that he isn't trying to run away, "I don't know how I can fix this without hurting the people I care about," and he’s crying when he says, " _I'm sorry._ "

"But I'm just so _stuck_ , Tsumu," Sakusa finishes lamely, and he can't stop the sob that leaves his mouth.

Then, Atsumu is scrambling into his lap. He cradles Sakusa's face with both of his hands, presses their foreheads together, and wipes away the tears from his face. Then, he’s pressing his lips to Sakusa's. The touch is so gentle, it makes him want to cry for a completely different reason. Atsumu slightly pulls away, so he can speak into the space between them. 

"Ya have me. You'll always have me, darlin'. Kiyoomi, ya don't have to figure this out alone," he says, his lips brushing Sakusa's own as he speaks.

He looks into Atsumu's eyes, sees the understanding and tenderness in them, and is suddenly unable to understand how he was lucky enough to end up where he is now, with this wonderful boy on top of him.

"I don't deserve you," Sakusa says, a little breathless.

Atsumu splutters, surprise evident on his face, before he sniggers, "I should make ya cry more often if it means you’re gonna be this sappy,” and he’s grinning when he says, “Of course ya don't deserve me, Omi. Aren't I so _nice_ for stayin' anyway?"

And Sakusa knows Atsumu is fucking around, but he's tempted to answer in the affirmative anyway.

It must be written all over his face because Atsumu's face softens looking at it.

"I love ya too, by the way," he says.

And Sakusa can't stop the full-blown grin from emerging on his face.

Atsumu grimaces, " _Gross_. Don't smile at me. It's way too fuckin' pretty for—," then Sakusa smashes his lips to Atsumu's.

Neither of them speak for a very long time after that.

* * *  
With his head still in Atsumu's lap, he smiles a little at his own thoughts. He turns his head to the side, so he can watch as his own hand traces Atsumu's forearm before intertwining with the hand at the end of it. He brings their clasped hands near his lips, so he can kiss the back of Atsumu's hand. 

Atsumu stops pretending to pay attention to their television and instead looks down at him. "Wanna tell me what yer pretty little head is thinkin’ about?"

Sakusa slightly tilts his head so he can meet his gaze, before he says, "You."

Atsumu's face turns a little red, even after all this time, nearly the same shade he was the day Sakusa first asked him out.

"Sap," he grumbles.

Satisfied with Atsumu’s reaction, Sakusa goes back to nuzzling his thighs. Suddenly, he pauses.

"You're hard, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"You're such an idiot." 

"You're literally rubbing me off with yer head, Omi. Yer mouth is above my fuckin' _cock_. What were ya expecting?"

 _He’s so stupid,_ Sakusa thinks, _God, does he love him._

Suddenly, he's thinking about what Ren said today. He completely stills, having an epiphany of sorts.

 _Oh_ , he thinks, _I want to spend the rest of my life with this man_.

He turns his body around so he's facing Atsumu, and then he says,

"Tsumu, I want to marry you."

Atsumu's eyes widen and his mouth drops open.

"Maybe not now, but one day. And I want to raise a mini Miya or Sakusa or whatever the fuck with you too."

And Sakusa has a shaky smile on his face when he says this, "So I'm going to tell them."

Atsumu says nothing, just stares with that same expression. Sakusa is a little worried he came off too strong. 

But then he sees Atsumu’s eyes pool with unshed tears.

He laughs, "Baby, why the hell are you crying?"

" _Shut up_. I'm gonna kill ya in yer sleep."

He takes Atsumu's hand in his and kisses it again. 

He’s so _scared_. As scared as the day he kissed a boy for the first time. But as he looks at Atsumu, he thinks it'll be worth it. Being honest about who he is is worth it. For his sake. For Atsumu’s. 

Besides, even if everything else in Sakusa's world turns to shit, he knows that him and Atsumu will be just fine. 

__

He grips Atsumu's hand a little tighter.

__

**Author's Note:**

> Can you tell I have a thing for Sakusa being called pretty?
> 
> This fic is projection central. Hence, it is very dear to me. It literally feels like a piece of my heart. I don’t know how you guys keep producing content. I wrote one fic and it feels like it’s taken all of me. like...I have nothing else interesting to say. 
> 
> There’s something about sakuatsu that just does it for me, y’know? And considering canon gave us little to nothing to go off of, the reason I am so in love with their dynamic is because of all you wonderful, wonderful fic writers. There are so many writers here that have impacted my heart in their own ways (think I’ve been lurking the sakuatsu since before it hit a 100 fics?) but someone whose work really holds a special place in my heart is [astroeulogy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astroeulogy/pseuds/astroeulogy)'s (do not notice me senpai, I will not hesitate to cry) The YHAL series did a number on my soul, alright? I’ll truly never recover. It has permanently shifted around the pieces of my mind. The series sort of made it very obvious to me how a writer’s perspective bleeds through their work. And I was like??? How rad??? I want to create something so loaded with my own feelings and perspectives too?? Which is why I wrote this. But if this fic feels like it is very heavily inspired by other sakuatsu writers, it’s because it is. 
> 
> Also, no one told me how annoying formatting would be. So if something looks weird, forgive me. And if you catch any grammatical errors, forgive me once again. I've read this so many times that it's all just become a blur.
> 
> I am always looking for new people to talk to, so if this fic made you want to talk to someone, hit me up on Twitter [ here](https://twitter.com/paradunee)!!! It....is a ghost town there because I really just use Twitter to lurk.


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